


The Toad Which Broke Hermione's Back

by Tranquil_Tevine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Fun, Humor, I have no regrets, Nice Severus Snape, Out of Character, Slight Umbridge Bashing, The Bitch deserved it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tranquil_Tevine/pseuds/Tranquil_Tevine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Harry had gone through a fair share in his life, Hermione had troubles of her own. A particular clad in pink person pushed her to the brink of her patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Toad Which Broke Hermione's Back

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first one writing from Hermione's point of view. The idea came to me while playing Far Cry 3. Naturally, I had to pause the game and note said idea down, which turned into this! As always I hope you enjoy and feedback is much appreciated. Parts are taken from The Order of The Phoenix but with my own twist and Hermione's thoughts.

Though Hermione seemed to be level-headed and calm, the opposite couldn't be truer. The staff and students would be surprised to learn of the inner turmoil which plagued her night and day, only controlled by her use of Occlumency. She'd borrowed Harry's Invisibility cloak and conjured herself a cushion, to sit and appreciate the view which the black lake offered while trying to organise her thoughts.

 

She'd known she was different from other people, for a long while. The time she was reading in her room at 5 years of age and a book levitated to her while she was just in thought about it indicated that. She knew it was magic, but it felt out of her control. Ironically it was Matilda, one of her favourites.

 

She was worried that others who used magic would be able to detect her, so she wished hard that people couldn't. Unknown to her wish magic was rare, but it caused a thin veil of it to coat the house, acting as a protection of sorts which kept the magic within.

 

She told no one, but often she would practice. It was difficult at first, as she noted that her magic would work either when she least expected it, or during a time where she felt extreme emotions. She learned that anger didn't work well, at least if she wanted to keep her room intact. Thoughts of a classmate ripping pages from her encyclopedia caused little explosions, leaving her coughing and wiping the ash off her face.

 

So she used happier thoughts. With those happy thoughts, she could eventually control what she wanted to see. In 6 months, she only had to feel what the memory provided her with and she was able to do most magic. Not even Dumbledore had this much control with wandless magic as a now 6 year old Hermione did.

 

The years passed quickly, Hermione breaking records in primary school for her exam scores. Her parents were so proud, having no idea they had a magical child.

 

Hermione didn't break records for no reason, she begged her parents for books on all kinds of material, including Psychology. Her mother she found, had depression. She was there for her as much as possible and had made some magic which could help a little. It was her thoughts and love for her, all within a little ball. When released, it would seek her out, breaking into the air. When she breathed a smile lit up her face. She was reminded of how blessed she was with her daughter. Her favourite smell of peppermint and a yet to be cracked open book eased her mind.

 

Hermione did this often for her Mother and for her Father too, since she discovered he had mental health issues of his own. She asked them one day and once they'd told her, she felt a closer connection to them as family.

 

The day before her letter was due to arrive, Hermione had a better grasp of magic than what most adults did. Hers was shaped around the thoughts she had daily, a lot existing to help others. She could summon and create things, banishing them just as easily, wandlessly and silently. She wanted to meet another magic user so badly, she had many questions but her keen intellect had an inkling that telling people about her control of magic would be a bad idea.

 

Her parents were booked in for a double shift of seeing to people's teeth, so Hermione had free reign of the house. They'd decided she was more than responsible enough to take care of herself for a few hours, so she spent the time in the living room, practising her magic.

 

The metal clunk of the letterbox broke her focus. Cocking her head in curiosity, she wondered what letters were here this time. Picking up the small bundle, she went through them. Bills, more bills, bank statements..Ah!

 

A heavy, old-fashioned envelope caught her eye. It looked like something which should've been delivered back in the 18th Century. A wax seal kept the contents within hidden. She checked the address.

 

Ms H Granger  
The Bedroom at the top of the stairs  
8 Heathgate  
Hampstead garden suburb  
London

 

It was for her! Deep inside, she knew what this must be about. Gently breaking the seal, she tipped the contents out, scanning the first page.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

 

Dear Ms Granger,

  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

  
Yours sincerely,

  
Minerva McGonagall

  
Deputy Headmistress

  
She knew it had to have something to do with her magic! She was so excited! She then remembered there was another page.

 

UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

 

COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)  
by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic  
by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory  
by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration  
by Emeric Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
by Phyllida Spore  
Magical Drafts and Potions  
by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them  
by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection  
by Quentin Trimble

 

OTHER EQUIPMENT  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales  
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.  
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS  
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

 

There was a lot for her to take in, but she was absorbing it like a sponge. She wanted to reply but decided to wait until her parents were home. But how would she though?

 

There was a tap on the window. Opening it, a beautiful tawny owl clicked its beak at her. Her eyes opened wide. She'd never seen an Owl before! Her childish excitement almost got the better of her.

 

"Are you here for my reply?" She queried. The Owl hooted an affirmative, before sticking out its leg.

 

"Could you come back, later on, tonight, please? There are other people who I need to discuss this with."

 

If an Owl could roll its eyes, it would. It flew off into the distance and she presumed would return later on tonight.

 

All in all, the conversation went rather well. Naturally they were shocked and even more so when they found out Hermione had been keeping her magic use from them, but didn't blame her. They had to wrap their minds around the idea but they had asked her to perform some feats of magic, to help with acceptance.

 

The Owl did return later on, greatly surprising the other 2 members of the household. Hermione scribbled a quick response. She was about to offer the Owl some water or food but flew off before she could.

 

A few days later, there was a response, stating that a representative of magic would be there to introduce her to the wizarding world and to expect them in a few days. She couldn't wait!

 

Current Hermione remembered her childhood well, especially who came to officially introduce her to magic. She smiled, thinking back on that day.

 

There was a knock at the door. Hermione had been on edge for the last couple of days. The letter had said to expect someone, but not when. Was it finally time? She hoped so. Looking at her parents for silent permission, she unlocked the door.

 

She looked up, then up some more.

 

A tall man stood before her, even taller than her father. He was clad in all black, with robes which billowed in the gentle breeze. A curtain of shoulder length dark hair framed his face. All in all, he looked like a foreboding figure.

 

He inclined his head at her, holding back a sneer.

 

"Miss Granger," Hermione noted he had a silky quality to his tone of voice, like dark chocolate. "I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am also head of house Slytherin. I'm sure you have many questions, but we must be on our way. You can ask them as we go."

 

She bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, Sir."

 

Snape quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. His eyes gleamed with the light of approval, then beckoned her to follow him.

 

'He must have had trouble with attitudes from people my age.' Hermione mused. 'I do have a lot of questions, but I'll try to reign them in for the time being.'

 

She trotted at his heels, observing the way his cape flowed around him. She had to admit that it made for an impressive, if not a little intimidating sight. It was a few minutes later before they arrived in a dark side alley. His eyes met hers, which were burning with questions.

 

He smirked, upper lip quirking with amusement. "Soon Miss Granger, soon. For now, I want you to hold onto my hand, tight. You will be taking part in the side along apparition which for someone who has never experienced it before, is a bit disconcerting."

 

Dare she ask? Hermione bit her lower lip. "Sir? Will this hurt at all?"

 

He shook his head. "Not if you keep a firm grip on my hand. You have to have full concentration when apparating, or you splinch. In other words, leave a body part behind."

 

She gulped a little, taking the professor's hand. It was softer than she'd imagined but painted with faint potion stains. She squeezed his fingers in a death grip, shutting her eyes and waiting.

 

Then it happened.

 

Hermione felt as though she were being pushed through a small tube. Not that she'd ever had that sensation before but she would rate her travels with Apparition.com a solid 2/10, purely for discomfort. Suddenly, they arrived. The experience was fast, but it felt agonisingly slow too.

 

She realised how hard she was gripping the professor's hand. She felt a little sick, to be honest.

 

She let go immediately, and he flexed his fingers, to get the feeling back into them.

 

Her cheeks went crimson. "Sorr-" She managed until her gag reflex kicked in and she sealed her mouth tightly.

 

Snape looked at her for a moment, producing a potion from the inner lining of his robes. "That does sometimes happen with those who haven't experienced this mode of travel before. Drink this, it's not the most pleasant of concoctions, but it should help with your nausea." He spoke softly, sympathising with her. He was very much the same for his first side along apparition.

 

Hermione took the vial carefully, studying its contents. It was a murky brown, certainly didn't look like something she should be drinking.

 

'Cheers.' She snorted to herself. Nothing cheery about this! She drank fast, it was difficult to swallow, like treacle but definitely not with the pleasant taste. It coated the inside of her mouth. She couldn't describe the taste with mere words, it was absolutely disgusting and she fought hard to keep it down, coating her mouth with saliva, to help remove the traces.

 

Snape's eyes glimmered with amusement, as Granger's face looked as though she'd sucked a lemon. He knew how foul his potions were but to make the taste better would often mean to reduce the potency, so he didn't like to take that chance.

 

Hermione could feel the nausea abating already. She smiled through her slight grimace. "Thank you, sir."

 

"Quite welcome." He replied, leading them both to a brick wall. Hermione watched closely as he tapped a sequence of bricks, her mind already cataloguing the sequence for future use.

 

Her eyes grew round as the bricks moved of their own accord and even rounder if possible at what lay behind them.

 

Snape smiled. Yes, the greasy bat smiled. His reaction was much the same when he first saw the beauty of the Wizarding World.

 

A voice brought Hermione out of her stupor.

 

"This," He drawled, "Is Diagon Alley."

  
"Pleasure to be here," Hermione whispered in awe.

 

She noted the Professor and made sure to stick close to him, though the other half of her mind was preoccupied with the wonders of Diagon Alley. Everything was different! Right down to the sights and smells. Oh how she wished she had a photographic memory, to remember this with such clarity. (she didn't, despite popular belief among her ex-classmates.) She supposed it didn't matter in the end, as Hermione highly doubted this would be the first and only time she'd be here.

 

The time passed by rather quickly. Professor Snape did indeed answer all of Hermione's questions and then some. He seemed to be pleased that she had such a keen mind and was a refreshing change from the "Snot nosed little turds he usually had to take shopping." She chuckled at that, thinking that it was one of those occurrences of unintentionally speaking your thoughts out loud.

 

They first stopped by Gringotts, where they were taken to Hermione's vault strictly for Hogwarts supplies and tuition. Every student had one of these though since Minister Fudge was in charge, the amount of Galleons, Sickles and Nuts per student for 7 years decreased by a fair amount. Hermione was never one for roller coaster type rides and neither was the Professor, judging by the green tint to his already alabaster skin, but she enjoyed the view the further the cart rattled on. 

 

Once finished with Gringotts, Hermione had more than enough to cover expenses and perhaps a little extra. She noticed a store which offered animals as familiars for sale, but she thought it best to return at a later date and peruse then. She was morbidly fascinated by the wide variety of potion ingredients which were sold in Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. Before leaving, Snape had some whispered words with the stout man at the desk, who handed over a small case. Money exchanged hands and Snape briskly marched out, Hermione jogging to keep up. Admittedly curious, but she thought it wise to not ask.

 

She was flabbergasted when they headed for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Of all the things she'd expected in the short time she'd known the man, this wasn't one of them. She thanked him profusely when he purchased a Summer Fruit Swirl for her. He ordered himself a coffee. Other people didn't expect this of him either, judging by the shocked stares. A menacing glare from him soon stopped them. Unknown to Hermione, he'd taken a liking to the girl. He was sure he'd gone soft in his old age. He had to admit he did look out of place, among all the brats with ice cream smeared around their chops, screaming in his ear holes and all the nauseatingly bright colours. These brats looked to be Miss Granger's age, he was glad he ended up with her than with one of them. He shuddered.

 

Hermione was swirling her spoon round absentmindedly, lost deep in thought. So much so that she ate the last of her ice cream, but left the spoon in her mouth.

 

"Surely, you are not that famished that you would consume kitchen utensils also, Miss Granger?"

 

Hermione looked at him, opening her mouth a little. The spoon slid from her mouth and clattered loudly on the table, coming to a stop. She looked at Snape sheepishly.

 

"Oops?" She offered.

 

The man barely held back a snort.

 

"Professor?" Hermione asked.

 

An eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

 

She placed her spoon back into the bowl, eyeing him thoughtfully. "I've been thinking since you officially told me your title. What does Potion making involve exactly? To me, it seems like a cross of cooking and chemistry."

 

He thought for a moment, black eyes looking into hers. "It is..similar, yet much more complicated."

 

So the next 30 minutes involved a lot of in-depth discussion, on both their parts, Snape was surprised to find. He hadn't had this much of a pleasant conversation with someone in years, not even Albus, the meddling old coot. She was only 11 yet had the soul of an adult. He found it easy to converse with her, as Hermione did him. She viewed him as a strict man, but not without reason as the subject he taught as a whole was volatile. She found it refreshing to speak to someone who seemed to be on her wavelength. She'd always gotten on better with adults than people her own age.

 

Hermione had to almost be bodily dragged from Flourish & Blotts, she practically salivated at all the reading material. As it was, they'd spent the most time in there, purchasing her schoolbooks and some extras, of Snape's recommendation. Sending his purchases to the office at Hogwarts with a snap of his fingers, he handed over Hermione's small bag, charmed to be lightweight.

 

Snape waved his wand, numbers floating in front of him, which disappeared soon after.

 

Hermione knew what came next. Though she had an excellent grasp of wandless magic already, she knew that a wand would help her to focus her powers more directly, with less magic used.

 

As she suspected, Snape beckoned her to follow him into Ollivander's, which was just a way down the street.

 

The door creaked as they entered, dust tickling Hermione's nose. She had to muffle a sneeze. A moment later she jumped out of her skin, backing into Snape who steadied her with his hands. Ollivander was there right in front of her. Where had he come from?

 

"Bloody hell." She breathed.

 

Snape did snort this time, not even bothering to berate her for her language.

 

A few minutes later, they were underway. A flying tape measure not only measured her wand arm but everywhere too, until Ollivander dismissed it with a wave of his hand. Several more minutes later, he was handing her every wand in the place, or so it felt like. She didn't know what was supposed to happen, but she had a feeling some sort of sign or connection was meant to be made when finding her wand but so far, nothing.

 

The boxes lined the table before she reached in for this wand. It was beautiful, a rich black and when the wand shone in the light, a glimmer of purple could be seen. The shaft twisted into an intricate knot, coming to rest near the top.

 

Ollivander blinked. "Ah, an interesting combination. 10 and a half inches, made from Bocote wood and Griffon Claw. One of my finer creations. Well go on, give it a wave!"

 

Hermione gripped the wand firmly, swishing and flicking. A rainbow of sparks exploded from the end. It was warm, it made her feel wonderful.

 

Ollivander clapped excitedly. "We've found it! Ah, Miss Granger, I think we can expect extraordinary things from you. Here is extra information on your wand, it can't hurt to know it better."

 

Taking the sheet of parchment from the quirky man, she placed it in her pocket and decided to have a look later. Before leaving, she bought herself a wand holster.

 

Quicker than a blink of an eye, the day was over and she was outside her house. Just as Snape was about to leave, Hermione hesitantly grabbed his sleeve. Snape turned round to stare at her, silently waiting for a reply.

 

She looked down, shuffling her feet, glancing through her eyelashes up at him.

 

"Thank you very much for today, Sir. I learned so much and you treated me as an equal, something which I've always wanted but never received, not even from my parents, though I know they care for me. I'm glad that it was you who came today and no one else, I truly appreciate you doing this for me."

 

Snape was shocked momentarily, his cheeks tinged pink. "There is no need to thank me, Miss Granger, it is my duty as a member of Staff. Once you arrive, you are welcome to come to me with any problems you may have. In front of my Slytherins, I have you treat you abysmally but alone, we can speak freely. I shall give you the password once you're sorted."

 

Hermione beamed. She barely restrained herself, bushy hair almost bouncing with her in happiness.

 

"Thank you!" Before she could change her mind, Hermione hugged the stunned professor hard, waving a quick goodbye to tell her parents about the day. 

 

The man was motionless, then coming to his senses. "No child, thank you. Thank you for correcting a snarky bastard wrong. That in fact, not all soon to be 1st years are complete dunderheads." Shaking his head softly, he apparated, mind still full with the day he'd had.

 

The years had passed quickly from that moment. She was sorted into Gryffindor, she did feel Ravenclaw was a very good match for her, but she was afraid to lose the only friends she had made. 1st year was filled with Trolls and stones, both of which she'd rather have avoided. Before the Halloween feast, she'd approached Professor Snape, who she sometimes visited privately, telling him of a whispered conversation Quirrell had with himself, of the plan to let loose a troll in the castle. Thanking her for her swift actions, he awarded 10 points to Gryffindor, (Shock! Horror!) He and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore safely knocked out the creature, calling ministry officials to deal with it. Harry and Ron were ready to foolishly take on the troll themselves, but she'd managed to persuade them otherwise. 

 

Unfortunately once the location of the stone was revealed, she couldn't stop Harry and Ron from stopping Quirrell. She discreetly conjured a messenger bird and sent a letter to Professor Snape, detailing what was happening and where she was going. Thankfully the 3 escaped somewhat unharmed, save for a slight concussion where Ron was knocked out on the chessboard, Hermione spraining her ankle from the drop with the Devil's Snare but Harry felt tremendously guilty over the death of Quirrel because he'd killed the man with his bare hands. Hermione helped him through this as much as she could, but knew he would have to do the majority of healing alone, as emotional trauma often was harder to fix than physical. 

 

Ron may have received a knock on the head, but that did nothing for his bottomless stomach. He was still stuffing his face to this day. As for Hermione, she had a stern lecture from her head of the house and then Professor Snape, before she was sent on her way. The man cared. She knew, that he knew she knew. Though from that year, the worry of what had yet to come built slightly.

 

2nd year very nearly did break her. She couldn't adequately describe the feeling of being petrified, but it was like you were trapped within your own body and your mind was left without a container. She felt rather than saw hands gripping her own and one felt like the Potion Master's, though she couldn't be sure. She managed to leave a clue for Harry and Ron to figure out the chamber of secrets, which was born of success, but very nearly not so. She owed Fawkes for Harry's life. 

 

Ron, as she'd later found out, had to babysit 'Professor' Lockhart, the mindless fool. She felt sorry for him and especially for Harry, as previously he'd had the whole heir of Slytherin thing pinned to him, purely because he could converse with snakes. Did people not realise how Hermione would kill for that ability? Unfortunately, it was never present in witches. Unknown to a lot, she actually really liked snakes. Before and after her petrification, Hermione had taken to asking for the tutelage of DADA from professor Snape who she found out, was very skilled. She was certainly above her peers and had passed all her exams so far. A little more pressure was added to the back of her mind, her eyes not so crystal clear and innocent as before.

 

3rd year was probably the best, for all of them, as Harry regained his Godfather and Remus. She'd known of Remus' condition and had approached Severus in private, to confirm. She'd managed to persuade him to look past his childhood grudge with the man and make his Wolfsbane potion instead of him having to purchase it, which the Professor thanked her profusely for later on. 

 

She'd never understood the prejudice towards werewolves, it wasn't something they could help, same as your skin colour or what sexuality you were. She was one of the few who missed out on the practice against a Boggart, fortunately for her. She realised how helpful it would be to have practice defending yourself against one, but she really didn't want to know what her fear was, not now. There were several downsides to that year, one of which being The Dementors. Hermione had no desire to relive the feelings of her petrification or the suffocating fear that Harry Ron and herself could easily have died in their quest to seek out the Philosopher's Stone as well as her being a hair's width from perishing due to the Basilisk, but she did, since the Dementors patrolled Hogwarts. She often had to brew dreamless sleep for herself as she would spend many a night trying to control her thoughts. 

 

It was that year she started her Occlumency training, eventually confiding in Professor Snape enough to tell him, who instructed her further in the area. Her wand was a great help to improving her mental focus, it was one of its special qualities. Though the training helped with her thoughts, she had yet more stresses to sort through which unbalanced the scales in her already straining mind.

 

4th year barely needed to be explained. While certainly nearly all of the pressure was on Harry, she did her best to aid him. Being Krum's chosen to rescue of all people to Hermione, was absurd. She barely knew the man and while she was sure he meant well, she wasn't interested in his advances, though she had to admit she had fun dancing with him at the Yule Ball. No, it was the deep worry for Harry and the sorrow for a death of a Hogwarts student which added more to the load that she had.

 

Her relationship with Professor Snape was more like that of a close friend than a teacher, in private. When they weren't alone and didn't have the privacy which silencing and warding charms offered, he wore his 'I'm better than you because I'm an adult.' Mask which she hated, but only because he has to use this mask in the first place, bloody Slytherins. She knew it wasn't all of them, just the ones like Malfoy, the albino ferret little shit. Their relationship had progressed a long way in the course of 5 years. She often found herself surprised by how much. With exceptions of the time she spent with Harry and Ron, her times with the Professor were among her most cherished. She respected his role deeply and knew if she were ever in his situation, she wouldn't be able to function as well.

 

Hermione finished organising her thoughts, feeling much better and lighter headed already, before groaning. Standing up and vanishing the cushion, she placed Harry's cloak in her bag, ready to give it back to him.

 

"Time for Umbitch's class. Oh, I mean Professor Umbitch." Chuckling to herself, Hermione prepared for the mental torture that she would no doubt receive.

 

Hermione was at her wit's end. While going through her pre-Hogwarts and past Hogwarts memories did help her to gain some semblance of control over her mind, the ugly Toad otherwise known as Umbridge was grating on her nerves. Speaking of the devil...

 

"Good Morning Children." A simpering voice from the back distracted her. What were they, 5? Cow.

 

"Ordinary, Wizarding, Level, Examinations! O, W, L, or more commonly known as, OWLS!" She spelt writing onto the blackboard as she said it. Hermione wanted to ram her own self-superiority up her arse. Well, no shit? What did Umbridge think they'd been studying for? Hermione was hardly preparing for exams which she didn't know the meaning of. It was her first lesson with her and already she wanted to Avada Kedavra herself and end the misery.

 

"Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so and the consequences may be severe." She smiled sweetly. Her parents would be devastated to know Hermione had gained cavities from how much faked sugar was in that smile.

 

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been, unstable. But you'll be pleased to know that from now on, you'll be following a carefully structured, ministry-approved course of defence of magic."

 

Hermione glanced down at the book given to her with obvious distaste. 'Dark Arts Defence: Basics for Beginners.' Skimming through the pages, she raised her hand.

 

"Yes?" Umbridge looked at her, those beady eyes narrowing.

 

"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells?"

 

"Using spells?" the giggle that escaped her hurt Hermione's brain. She was having violent urges. "Well, I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."

 

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron interjected.

 

Umbridge smiled, again. Her hands clasped in front of her.

 

"You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way."

 

"Well, what use is that? If we're going to be attacked it won't be risk-free."

 

'God Harry no.' Hermione knew Occlumency and some Legillimency. If she could project her thoughts to him of not doing this course of action, she would.

 

"Students will raise their hand when they speak in my class."

 

Harry raised his hand under the desk, to flip her off. Hermione quirked her lip, her eyes meeting his in amusement before he slyly winked at her. Hermione tuned back into Umbridge's bullshit.

 

"It is the view of the ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations which is what school, after all, is all about."

 

"And how's theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?" Hermione knew this would end badly. Harry always got himself into these situations but for once, she couldn't blame him. She had half a mind to do the same.

 

"There is nothing out there dear. Who do you imagine would want to attack children like yourself?" Dear? Oh lord pass her the sick bucket.

 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe Lord Voldemort?" Hermione could practically feel his sarcasm.

 

"Now let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. is. a. lie."

 

"It's not a lie! I saw him, I fought him!"

 

"Detention Mr Potter!" Hermione massaged her temples. Anything which Umbridge has up her sleeve couldn't be good.

 

Harry was outraged, Hermione could see the defiance in his eyes.

 

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord."

 

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident." 'Yes, your birth was rather tragic too.' Hermione thought bitterly.

 

"It was murder! Voldemort killed him you must know tha-"

 

"ENOUGH! Enough. See me later Mr Potter, my office."

 

Harry's chair scraped against the ground roughly, before he packed his things and walked out.

 

"Double detention Mr Potter, 10 points from Gryffindor!" Umbridge shouted over the door slamming.

 

Hermione's table was shaking. She realised with a start it was her trembles causing this. How dare she? How dare she teach us this shit! She's been the faithful lapdog of Minister fudge, happily brown tonguing him to remain in his top favour. She felt her magic out of control. She managed to stop it, but something in her mind left. It didn't snap, not like those whose mind was damaged and went on a murdering spree, no, something just, gave way. Suddenly, she didn't give a fuck. She loved Hogwarts with all her heart, it was like a second home, but the traumatic things happening to or around her had finally tipped her over the edge. Umbridge was her pushing point. She was calm when she spoke, but inside, she felt positively murderous.

 

"Are you happy with yourself, Professor, for spouting such ministry nonsense? You really believe us all so sheltered from the outside world, that we don't recognise the danger? I have been in danger myself and so have many of our classmates."

 

Before Umbridge could speak, Hermione went on. She was far from finished.

 

"You dare enter our school, claiming that Voldemort is not back and that Harry is an attention-seeking liar? Ask for a Pensieve memory, only the most skilled of magic users can fake one and even then they have to be professionals, which Harry isn't. You're a foul, evil mouthed toad and I hope the magic called karma comes back to bite you, you colossal bitch."

 

A gasp passed through the class. What was wrong with Hermione?

 

Umbridge turned purple. "Triple detention Miss Granger and 20 points from Gryffindor! See me tonight at 7:30 for your first."

 

Hermione sighed, pinching her nose. "I'm done."

 

With an impressive feat of magic, Hermione waved her hand and Umbridge became a literal toad, the same size as her human form. With an extra flourish, a pink bow was perched on the toad's head. As a final touch, she summoned a giant blue bottle, before sending it whizzing into the toad's mouth. All of this was done wandlessly and silently. She packed up her things and left, rolling her eyes when she heard Ron's shout of "Bloody buggering hell!" over a gobsmacked class and choking Umbridge. She went to find Harry.

 

Hermione located Harry back in the Gryffindor common room and filled him in on what happened.

 

Harry fell off the armchair he was sat in, so great were his bouts of laughter. "No way Hermione you didn't! Oh, that's brilliant. You have triple detention? McGonagall's going to have a kitten!"

 

Hermione sniggered at Harry's use of language. "Yes, I do, but I have a plan. I promise I'll tell you if it works. I might even try to persuade McGonagall if I can use Dumbledore's pensieve to show you, while he's away."

 

Harry nodded his head, eager to find out what she had in mind.

Word of what happened in class spread around the school, including her unique use of magic. Hermione was hailed as some kind of hero and everyone was pressing her for details. She didn't mind too much. The Great Hall was a lot chattier than usual and she imagined a few members of staff would want to have a word with her eventually. She finalised her plan in between sips of pumpkin juice.

It was ready. Rather uncomfortable under her robes, but she was prepared. She bade farewell to the common room and was soon outside the door.

 

A few minutes later she'd arrived, knocking 3 times.

 

"Come in." That sickly sweet voice spoke. Oh, her transfiguration didn't last, what a shame.

 

The room nauseated her. Not an inch of it was covered in anything but pink. She felt as though she'd stepped into the world of Barbie. Kittens were on the walls, their soft mews, strangely enough, calming her nerves a little.

 

"Now Miss Granger." Umbridge simpered while adding endless amounts of sugar to her tea. She placed a sinister looking quill on the desk. Hermione blanched. Umbridge didn't notice this and continued speaking.

 

"I want you to write this 300 times. I must not transfigure my teachers into toads and force feed them flies."

 

Shit. Hermione knew exactly what this quill was, but she had to be sure.

 

"Professor, there is no Ink."

 

Her smile turned feral.

 

"There is no need of ink, it has its own...special kind. Now come along dear, I don't have all night." She took a sip of her tea, watching Hermione closely.

 

It was confirmed. What Umbridge wanted Hermione to use, was a Blood Quill. It was among some of the darkest magic and Hermione only knew of this due to her access to the restricted Section. It used your very life essence, blood, as ink. It etched what you wrote onto your skin, specifically the back of the hand you were writing it with.

 

Hermione made a decision then and there. She didn't want to do this, but perhaps it would work in getting rid of this bitch once and for all. However, if she was going to willingly harm herself, she sure as hell wasn't writing what Umbridge told her to. She casually tapped her left finger on the table once. Hopefully now when she writes, Umbridge will see the lines she'd set her and not the one Hermione was going to write.

 

'Umbridge is so far up her own arse, filch will have to get Mrs Norris to claw her back out.' Yes, she knew it was going to hurt, but at least she'd be marking truth into her hand. She put quill to parchment. At first, it wasn't so bad, but after the 10th line or so, it started to burn badly. She didn't let it show on her face, thank god she regularly practised Occlumency, she didn't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing the pain that she was in.

 

A loud croak drew her attention. Umbridge passed it off as a cough, while silently glaring at her.

 

Hermione smiled. Looks like a part of her transfiguration lingered.

 

10 minutes later, Hermione thought the time was right. She had her escape planned perfectly. She glanced over to the window, the glass vanishing when she concentrated.

 

She stood up casually, brushing herself off.

 

"Hem hem, Miss Granger. I suggest you sit back down, now. You have not finished your detention unless you would like another 100 lines?"

 

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think I will."

 

She vanished her robes, leaving Umbridge like a fish out of water.

 

Hermione had spent the rest of her time, fashioning a wingsuit. With the help of magic, imagination and a little sewing, it was red and gold with the Gryffindor crest. If she was going to leave her detention in style, she would represent her house in doing so.

 

Using her wingsuit revealing as a distraction, she quickly swiped the blood quill, planning to hand this over to a certain someone. Before Umbridge could blink, Hermione had both her middle and index fingers up, facing towards her. A quick cast of her wand had Umbridge stuck and unable to move before she placed it back in its holster.

 

"You didn't think I would sit here for the entire evening, did you? I knew you had something horrible up your sleeve but even this is a new low for you. I'm glad I came here before Harry, I'm making sure you keep your filthy pudgy hands off of him. I will do everything I can to help remove you from this school. You're an eyesore and I hope misfortune follows you wherever you go."

 

With that having been said, Hermione took a running jump to the window, after lining herself up. She actually hadn't had the time to test this out. If it failed she could cast arresto momentum on herself but considering she lined the suit with the same charms as Harry's Firebolt, she was good.

 

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She didn't feel like she was falling. Unlike normal wingsuits, this would work as a broom would. If she aimed her upper body toward the sky, she would fly higher, upper body lower, she would fly lower, etc. She actually did have a destination in mind.

 

"Point me, Severus Snape." She whispered among the wind. It was a windy night and it made navigating harder. She'd adapted the spell so a golden trail could be followed, as she realised she couldn't always rely on her wand for an accurate result. She took a brief second to admire the view. Hogwarts was truly beautiful on a night. She started to understand how Harry felt so alive on a broom. Perhaps she would try flying one properly after all this was over.

 

The trail was taking her lower. It looked like he was in the dungeons (Surprise Surprise). She hoped it was his office, as she knew there was a window in there. Luckily for her, it was. She recognised the expanse of rocks and water outside of the window. Casting a slight sticking charm, it allowed her to shuffle along the wall. She felt a lot like Spiderman right now but looked like a flying squirrel. Spider Squirrel or Squirrelman?

 

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time. She rapped on the window a few times. He must be in his rooms somewhere, the spell was accurate enough.

 

A blur of black robes appeared, settling to reveal one Severus Snape, the bat of the dungeons. He looked around before spotting Hermione at the window. He blinked once or twice, not seeming to register what he was seeing. Once he did, his eyes opened wide. He quickly opened the window. Unfortunately, the sticking charm expired. Fortunately, she fell forwards rather than backwards, landing flat on her face, legs splaying.

 

"Oof!" She exclaimed, rubbing her nose.

 

A hand found hers, pulling her up. Her eyes met Snape's. She grinned and started laughing.

 

"Your face! Oh, I wish I had a camera, it's priceless!"

 

He sputtered before regaining his wits.

 

"It's not often you see the equivalent of a Gryffindor bat outside of my window, so perhaps you will forgive my slight surprise." He sneered, summoning a house elf for refreshments.

 

"Seat, Miss Granger?" He offered. She nodded, the sofa was incredibly comfortable. He sat beside her, crossing one leg over the other, folding his arms.

 

"Care to explain?"

 

Hermione sighed, the day's events catching up with her. Now she had time to think, her hand was really hurting.

 

"Professor, might I ask for some essence of dittany before I do?"

 

His eyes narrowed. "What for?"

 

She reluctantly showed him her right hand.

 

His face darkened with anger. "Who did this to you? They shall suffer in the most painful way possible if I have anything to say about it." His eyes softened, before he stood up, to come back with essence of dittany a few moments later. Taking her hand carefully in his, he dabbed at the wound, swiping his thumb across her hand in some semblance of comfort as she winced. He snorted loudly at the words she'd written, he couldn't help himself. He wrapped it securely in bandages, releasing it.

 

"I'll give you a bottle now. Thankfully the wound isn't deep enough to cause permanent scarring. Put some of this on once every 6 hours, it will fade soon."

 

Her eyes expressed gratitude. "Thank you, professor, I appreciate your help. I have the item with me that caused this."

 

She removed the Quill from the inner lining of her suit (She forgot she was still wearing that, what a sight she must look!) handing it over to him.

 

He growled, startling Hermione a little. "I had hoped it wasn't so, but apparently not. Miss Granger, I want you to tell me exactly what happened today, spare no details. Also, what on earth are you wearing? Afterwards, I want you to go to Madam Pomfrey. Since this is dark magic, some may have run into your bloodstream. It's unlikely, but just to be sure."

 

And so she did, every little detail. He openly laughed when she'd told him of her transfiguration and how Umbridge was still suffering from the croak. That shocked Hermione a little. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say, particularly her wingsuit idea. They talked long into the night, including the revelation to him of her ability to cast magic Wandlessly and Silently, then realising what time it was.

 

"You have provided me with stimulating conversation. I shall sort this out, don't worry. That hag won't stay in this school a moment longer. Thank you for telling me all of this." He spoke up after a moment, thinking they knew each other well know for formality to be broken. "In private, you may call me Severus."

 

Hermione smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Only if you call me Hermione, Severus."

 

"Alright, Hermione. Go see Madam Pomfrey now and-" A hand landed on her shoulder. Serious eyes met her large brown ones. "If you are ever struggling with your own thoughts, please see me. I knew it was only a moment of time before your mind gave way from the pressure on your shoulders. It can be difficult but I want you to know you can talk to me if you wish to." He awkwardly averted his eyes.

 

"Thank you, Severus." Hermione bowed her head, leaving the room for The Hospital Wing.

 

Within a few short days, Umbridge was hauled away to Azkaban. Harry was in tears when he found out. Partly from laughter at what she'd done and partly in sorrow for what she had to suffer. What Hermione went through made the two of them closer that day. Harry recognised what she did for him and the entire school and she was hailed a 'hero.' once more. She didn't agree but didn't bother to stop them. Severus was the real hero. Without him, Hermione wouldn't have been able to remove Umbridge from the school so smoothly. Ron howled with laughter once he was filled in on all the details and as promised, she borrowed Dumbledore's pensieve so both Harry and Ron could see what happened. More shocks came from them in the form of Hermione's relationship with Professor Snape once she'd decided to tell them. They swore not to tell and that was enough for her.

 

She was overjoyed when later, Remus came back to teach DADA, she'd missed him. The only competent teacher that she'd ever had with the exception of Severus, with an added surprise: Sirius Black as assistant DADA professor. It turned out that while All of this was going on, Crookshanks had caught himself a rat. The cunning ginger cat had brought his findings to Professor McGonagall, who was confused at first. Thanks to her animagus form, she understood Crookshanks and what he was trying to say. She was floored when casting the Animagus Reversal Spell, it was none other than Peter Pettigrew. Calling the Aurors immediately, he was questioned under veritaserum.  
Not only did they find out that Sirius Black was innocent, but he had been planning to track Harry Potter, placing a portkey in his bag which would react when the material was touched, bringing him once more to The Graveyard from his 4th year.

 

Hermione thought it quite fitting that Wormtail and Umbridge were placed in a cell side by side. Sirius and Remus eventually caught wind of all that happened, Sirius hugging the life out of her and thanking her 'For that ginger cat and buying him.' Remus also for helping to get his friend free. They officially made her an honorary member of The Marauders after getting wind of the Hogwarts rumour mill. Her nickname was Cloudglider, based on the wingsuit adventure.

 

The Wizarding world would take a while to get over this revelation, but Sirius was already becoming popular with the local witches. Even though he'd spent so long in Azkaban, it didn't alter his looks much, what a few good night's sleep and food could do for him.

 

Hermione's hand healed up well, no traces of scars were left afterwards and she was left with a sense of calmness.

 

She wrote the last few words on parchment.She had decided to document all that had happened.

 

'This year is looking to be a somewhat calmer one.' finally putting her quill down, she cracked her knuckles, reclining in her seat.

 

She hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> ~Updated, changed so many mistakes!


End file.
